


Separation Anxiety

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Mal [18]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip goes on a mission without Mal and misses him more than he wants to let on. In fact, he gets a little preoccupied thinking about him and doesn’t exactly behave himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Separation Anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            "Hey, T'Pol!" The First Officer stopped in the hallway and turned to face the Chief Engineer, who was jogging up to her.

            "Is there some emergency, Commander?" she inquired, when he had come to a stop before her.

            "Uh—no," Trip replied, confused. "Why do you ask?"

            "Shouting and running in the hallways is usually reserved for crisis situations, is it not?"

            "Well, not in the Tucker household," Trip admitted, and T'Pol's look indicated she did not find that hard to believe. "Anyway, I wanted to ask—you're not going on this trip, are you?"

            "That is correct," she told him. "My expertise would not be necessary, and with the Captain, you, _and_ Lt. Marcus away from the ship, I felt it prudent to remain—"

            "That's great, 'cause I have a favor to ask you," Trip interrupted eagerly. "Could you look after Mal for me, while I'm gone?"

            T'Pol's eyes narrowed just slightly. "I believe I would be a poor substitute for you, Commander," she replied crisply. "Perhaps Dr. Phlox, or Ensign Mayweather, would be better suited to this task."

            "Oh, come on, T'Pol," Trip wheedled. "It's mostly nominal, anyway."

            "Nominal," she repeated with a touch of disbelief.

            "Yeah, you know, in name only," he clarified.

            Now her eyes were _definitely_ narrowed. "I am familiar with the meaning of the word, Commander," she assured him.

            "I mean, Mal can feed and dress and bathe himself and everything—"

            "I would assume so."

            "—but he just needs a little guidance now and then, you know?" T'Pol did not know. And she did not _want_ to know. "An authority figure he can turn to. Someone who'll treat him with a firm hand."

            T'Pol weighed her options and decided she needed more information. "What exactly would this duty entail?"

            Trip whipped out a data pad and handed it to her. "Here's all the foods he shouldn't eat," he pointed out, scrolling through a list. "And here's the stuff he's allowed to do in Engineering—they'll keep him in line down there, so you don't have to worry about that. Now don't feel like you have let him sleep with you if you don't want to"—T'Pol's eyebrows climbed precipitously—"he should be okay for three nights, but he'll whine about it a lot. As far as _petting_ goes..." T'Pol thought about reminding Commander Tucker that she had not yet agreed to accept this assignment. But experience told her that such a reminder would do little good.

 

            Archer glanced around the shuttlepod, feeling like a schoolteacher doing a head count of the class before leaving on a field trip. And speaking of which—"Where's Trip?" As none of the assembled crewmembers seemed to know, the Captain was forced to turn to technology to assist him. "He's probably in Engineering, wrapping up fifteen last-minute things," he smirked, opening the ship-wide comm channel. "Archer to Tucker. The ship's about to sail."

            Archer was about to page him again when suddenly Trip responded, sounding more than a little harried. " _Tucker here. Sorry, I'll be there in just a minute_ —"

            A loud wail was heard in the background, followed by a scream of, " _I WANNA GO TOO! I WANNA GO WITH YOU!!!_ " Archer and most of the shuttle crew winced.

            Trip seemed to turn away from the comm slightly and snapped, " _Either_ you _shut him up, or_ I _will shut him up!_ "

            "Um, is anything wrong, or—" Archer ventured hesitantly.

            " _Two minutes, Captain_ ," Trip assured him. " _I'm leaving Sickbay right now_."

            Two minutes later Trip threw himself and his gear into the pod, only slightly out of breath from jogging down the corridors. "Anything wrong?" Archer asked. Although it was obvious _something_ was.

            Trip shut the hatch of the pod with slightly more force than was necessary and pulled his seat strap extra tight across his lap. "G-----n little brat," he muttered furiously. "Threw a _temper tantrum_ in the middle of Engineering!"

            Archer shook his head and began piloting the pod out of the ship. "He still wanted to come with you?" Hoshi asked sympathetically.

            "Yes," Trip ground out. "I don't think he gets the concept of 'no.'"

            "Why were you in Sickbay?" Marcus questioned curiously.

            "Because I dragged his a-s down there and had Phlox tranq him," Trip replied smartly. Marcus seemed to find this entirely reasonable.

            "Trip!" Archer admonished, sending a chiding look over his shoulder.

            His friend's arms were crossed over his chest tightly, like he was trying to keep his temper from escaping even now. "He wasn't knocked out, just—sedated a little," he insisted defensively. "Which is a d—n sight better than me whacking him in the head with a hypospanner."

            "He's only _two_ ," Hoshi pointed out. "He's probably having separation anxiety or something."

            "He's not a _toddler_!" Trip shot back. "He can spend three d—n days on his own."

            "He's not on his own," Marcus corrected with a smirk. "T'Pol's looking after him, remember?"

            "Yeah, well," Trip huffed, settling back into his seat, "I'm not sure I'd wish him on _anyone_ right now, even T'Pol."

 

            An hour later. "Ah, s—t," from somewhere behind Archer.

            "Problem?" he asked, turning from the navigational panel.

            "Are we still in comm range with the ship?" Trip asked with some annoyance.

            "Just barely," Hoshi replied, glancing at her screen.

            "Mind if I call back, Captain?" the engineer asked, already standing and squeezing in between Hoshi and Archer by the comm station.

            "Sure, go ahead," Archer shrugged, slightly mystified. "What for?"

            "I forgot something," Trip explained off-hand. Archer finally gave up his seat and moved back so he could actually breathe. "Tucker to _Enterprise_."

            "Enterprise _here_ ," T'Pol answered coolly. " _Is there a problem, Commander?_ "

            "Yeah, I forgot to tell you a couple important things," Trip replied matter-of-factly. "He's got this old sweatshirt of mine he really likes, kind of like a binky or something I guess—"

            " _I assume you are talking about Mal_ ," T'Pol interrupted, her voice just _slightly_ exasperated. " _What is a 'binky'?_ "

            Trip gave a look that said he felt the definition should be obvious, even though T'Pol couldn't see his expression. "A binky, you know, like a security blanket or something—"

            " _If this is a security matter, perhaps you should speak to Lt. Sundeep_ ," the First Officer suggested icily.

            Trip rolled his eyes while the rest of the shuttlepod crew tried to hide their smirks from him. "No, it's not—it's like something soft that comforts him, that he likes to sleep with sometimes. It'll probably help calm him down."

            " _I see_ ," T'Pol remarked, although Trip imagined she really didn't.

            "I just wanted to tell you about it so you didn't try to take it away from him," Trip explained reasonably.

            " _Why might I wish to remove this... binky from Mal?_ " T'Pol inquired, though her tone of voice suggested she didn't really want to know.

            "Well," Trip admitted, "it's kind of ratty-looking by now, and it's got this weird smell to it." In the background Archer had his hand over his mouth and was trying not to make eye contact with a very, very still Hoshi.

            " _Smell_ ," T'Pol repeated distastefully.

            "Yeah, I keep meaning to send it to the laundry," Trip went on, a bit sheepishly but not nearly enough for T'Pol's satisfaction. "But he likes the smell, I think. I can't get it away from him when I'm thinking about it." There was a pause on the other end. "T'Pol?" Trip prompted, checking to see if they were still in range.

            " _I... appreciate the information, Commander_ ," the First Officer assured him, although again Trip was somehow doubtful about her sincerity. " _If that is all_ —"

            "Yeah, that's it," Trip agreed. "Oh no, wait. Did I tell you about the toy he really likes, that remote-control ball? He likes to chase it through the hallways. I've got a couple routines programmed into the computer—"

            " _As I recall, it was determined that the use of this toy constituted a hazard to the crew_ ," T'Pol reminded him frostily.

            Trip rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, the Captain and Marcus are _here_ , no one's gonna complain to you about it," he insisted. "Just do it during the late shift, when the halls are emptier. Oh, but not right before bedtime," Trip added helpfully, "because it'll get him all worked up, and then he won't be able to sleep. Now if he wants a story before bed—"

            " _Commander_ ," T'Pol cut in, and she definitely sounded peeved now, for a Vulcan anyway, " _I am_ not _reading Mal a story before bed, or indeed at any other time_."

            "Well, if you don't wanna read one, you don't have to," Trip allowed generously. "I usually just make one up on the spot. Not too funny, though, he's supposed to be getting sleepy. If you can work pineapples into it somehow, so much the better." Archer was biting one of the fingers he held tightly over his mouth; Marcus was turning red; and Hoshi was squeezing her sides in an effort to remain quiet.

            " _Commander, are you attempting to be humorous with this communication?_ " T'Pol inquired, slightly suspicious.

            "No," Trip answered, giving the comm a look of annoyance. "I'm just tryin' to give you some tips, that's all. So you'll know what to do if he gets fussy."

            " _If Mal should become... fussy_ ," T'Pol replied pointedly, " _perhaps I shall follow your example and present him to Dr. Phlox to be medicated._ "

            "Now look here, T'Pol," Trip snapped, glaring at the comm, "that's kind of a low blow, there's no need to get _mean_ —" Archer frantically signaled Hoshi to cut the channel.

            "Sorry, Commander, we're going out of range," she interrupted cheerfully, closing the line.

            "D—n," Trip sighed. "I didn't even get around to telling her about shower time."

            "Shower time?" only Archer was brave enough to venture.

            "Yeah, he'll just stand under the water forever," Trip explained. "I've had to drag him out a few times before he used up my hot water ration."

            "Guess you'll have to leave that as a little surprise for T'Pol," Archer deadpanned, patting him on the shoulder. "How about giving me my seat back?"

 

            That evening. "What's this pink stuff?" Trip asked their hosts cheerfully. "It's delicious!"

            Aikolo smiled. "We call it _uimele_. It's a very popular fruit here."

            "Did you try some, Captain?" Trip pressed. "Tastes just like pineapple. Mal would love it."

            "Who is Mala?" Enera inquired pleasantly.

            "Oh, Mal's... um... he's, uh..." Trip was stumped. "He's back on the ship," he finally decided, then turned to Archer. "What _is_ Mal, anyway?"

            "If _you_ can't figure it out," the Captain remarked wisely, "then _I_ sure can't."

 

            The next morning. "This place is beautiful, isn't it? I mean, look at that view—the mountains, the river... Trip?" Archer prompted.

            "Oh, yeah, it's real nice," Trip agreed, cracking a huge yawn.

            "Didn't you sleep well last night?" the Captain asked worriedly. "I hit that mattress and was out like a light."

            Trip shrugged. "I don't know, I just couldn't sleep. Tossed and turned. Strange bed, I guess. Say," he added, "do you think Aikolo would let me use their comm center to contact the ship?"

            Archer rolled his eyes. "Trip, I'm sure Lt. Hess can handle things in Engineering for a few days, there's no need for you to check in—"

            "I wasn't going to call Hess," Trip assured him, slightly affronted at the suggestion. "Okay, maybe I was just going to talk to her for a minute," he admitted when Archer gave him a look. "I mostly wanted to leave a message for Mal. I thought he might have had bad dreams last night if he had to sleep alone."

            " _If?_ " Archer repeated, eyebrow raised. "You're allowing for the possibility that T'Pol actually let him sleep with her?"

            "Yeah, that seems kind of remote," Trip agreed, with a smirk. The smile vanished from his face, however, when another thought occurred to him. "You don't think she let him sleep on the warp core, do you? D----t, if I get back and find him curled up there again—"

 

            Lunch that day. "Commander Tuckera, aren't you enjoying your meal?" Enera probed gently. "You seem somewhat... distant today."

            "Oh, sorry," Trip smiled, genuinely trying to cheer up for his generous hostess. "I was just thinking, the last couple meals were the first I've had in ages where there wasn't someone picking over all the food and asking me if I was sure it was safe to eat." Enera looked a little confused, so Trip added, "That's just what Mal does all the time—he's a real picky eater. He doesn't even like different kinds of food to touch, always pushes them apart on his plate and won't eat the parts that mixed together."

            "Is Mala your... young one?" Enera asked, seemingly with genuine interest.

            "Oh, no, no," Trip laughed. "He's, um... Well, he _is_ kinda young, I guess." Enera nodded. "But he's not a child. Physically speaking, anyway." Enera shook her head. "It's more _emotionally_ that he's young, you know?" Enera nodded. "But that doesn't excuse him all the time." Enera shook her head. "Because sometimes I think he really knows better, he just misbehaves anyway, you know?" Enera nodded.

            "It must be very confusing for him," she observed sagely. She could certainly sympathize with that.

 

            Late that night. The knock on the door woke Archer from a sound sleep. After taking a few seconds to remember where exactly he was, he flipped on the light by the bed and shuffled across the floor of the guest bedroom he'd been assigned. He opened the door to find his Chief Engineer standing in the hall, dressed for bed.

            "Oh, good, you're still awake," Trip noted breezily, sailing into the room.

            Jon blinked a few times, realized Trip wasn't in the hall anymore, and slowly shut the door. "Something wrong?" he asked in a groggy voice, which Trip completely missed.

            "Yeah," Trip sighed heavily. "It's kinda stupid—I just can't sleep around here. I don't know what it is."

            Jon didn't have the same problem. He ambled back to his bed and sat down on it, hoping Trip would get a clue. "You don't usually have trouble sleeping in new places," he suggested dully.

            "Yeah, I don't know," Trip shrugged, rubbing his lower lip pensively. "Maybe I'm getting old and inflexible or something."

            Jon slid his feet beneath the covers. "Well, it's only another couple of nights." More like one and a half at this point.

            "It's just weird," Trip continued, wandering over to the table to poke at the decorative knickknacks. The decorative knickknacks carved of wood that all had moving parts which clunked together with hollow thumps as he played with them. "I lie there in bed, staring at the ceiling, and I just can't fall asleep."

            "I know what you mean," Jon assured him, sliding down until his head was on the pillow.

            "Am I too hot, or too cold, or is there too much light or not enough?" Trip listed, mystified. "Maybe there's too much noise, or not enough—maybe I'm so used to all the white noise on _Enterprise_ , I can't fall asleep without it."

            "That's a possibility," Jon allowed, turning on his side and pulling the blankets up to his chin.

            "It's like I'm just _missing_ something, you know?" Trip finished, shaking his head.

            "I can't imagine what that would be," Jon replied dryly, snapping off the light.

            "Hey!" Trip exclaimed, standing in the darkness. "Maybe I'm just not used to sleeping by myself in the bed anymore. What do you think?" He turned expectantly towards Jon, or at least Jon assumed he did. "Jon?" he prompted when he got no response.

            "I think you're absolutely correct," Jon agreed, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to.

            "Would you mind if I slept in here tonight? I know it's kind of weird, but it's a big bed, you won't even know I'm here—I just think it would be better if I could get some sleep and not be a zombie tomorrow, when I'm working on that equipment... Jon?" A soft snore met Trip's question. "I'll take that as a yes," he decided, crawling carefully into the bed.

 

            The next morning. "No, no, Commander Tucker and I aren't— _involved_ ," Archer was assuring his dubious host. "We were just sleeping in the same bed."

            "I don't understand, Captain Arachera," Aikolo told him, patience strained. "Is there something wrong with the beds we have provided?"

            "No, not at all," Trip insisted. "It's just that, well, I'm used to sleeping with Mal, I guess, and I was havin' trouble sleeping alone—"

            "Is Mala your mate?" Enera asked with confusion.

            "NO," Trip informed her resolutely. "He's way too young for that, anyway! We just sleep in the same bed."

            "Perhaps they have very crowded conditions on this _Enateraprise_ ," Aikolo suggested to his wife quietly.

            "Maybe," she agreed in a murmur. "I am still uncertain as to the identity of this Mala, though he seems very important to Commander Tuckera."

            "Since they're guests from afar, maybe we could hold off having the High Priest purify the bed," Aikolo proposed. "At least until after they leave."

            "Whoa whoa whoa," Trip interrupted, having overheard part of the conversation rather advertantly. "Purify the bed? We most definitely did not do anything to make the bed impure—"

            "Trip," Archer warned. The rest of the sentence was clearly, _Cool it, boy_. "Aikolo, we are very sorry if we have offended you in any way," he said diplomatically to his host. "It's sometimes difficult for... humans... to sleep alone in a strange place, no matter how comfortable." A tactful untruth Archer could live with telling. "But if there's some kind of taboo regarding this, we will gladly stay in separate bedrooms from now on." This last remark was directed squarely at Trip.

            "You're very considerate, Captain," Aikolo smiled gratefully.

 

            Later that day. "Okay, you're gonna have to scrub these tubes out at _least_ twice a year to keep the power flowing at full efficiency," Trip explained to the head engineer. "And when I say scrub, I mean someone on their hands and knees with a toothbrush, gettin' every little speck of dust out." He hoped that 'toothbrush' translated properly. "But _without_ getting any scratches on the inside. You see?" The engineer looked at him doubtfully. "Yeah, I know," Trip sighed, "it's gonna be a pain in the a-s. We have tubes like this all over my ship and I used to assign the job of cleaning them to crew members who'd come late to their shifts or not done their reports right. Although nowadays Mal does most of them and just loves it, so..."

            "Is Mala your assistant?" Enera guessed from the sidelines.

            "Um, kind of, I guess," Trip decided, leaving the engineers to poke at the equipment and chatter among themselves. "Although not really. He does some odd jobs around Engineering, runs errands for me, but he doesn't have training or anything." Enera frowned pensively. "He's kind of like a—personal assistant, I guess. If that makes sense."

            "Personal assistant," Enera repeated carefully, thinking it over.

            "Yeah, I mean, he kinda follows me around all day, gets food for me, cleans our cabin, looks after me when we go somewhere, that kind of thing," Trip tried to tell her.

            "Does he do these things for anyone else on the ship?" she inquired.

            "Nope, just me," Trip grinned ruefully. "Lucky me, I got him all to myself, for good or bad." He paused. "It's kind of hard to explain."

            "I believe we may have had something similar here, in centuries past," Enera suggested thoughtfully. "I am surprised that only you, and not your Captain, has a person such as Mala," she continued with confusion. "Or at least, I haven't heard Captain Arachera speak of such a person."

            "Oh, no, it's not, like, a _common_ thing for humans," Trip assured her. "In fact it's really kind of weird for us."

            "Oh," Enera nodded. "Even more interesting, then. In our past, only the very wealthiest and most important individuals kept pleasure slaves."

 

            That evening. "Trip, get out of here before bed-check. I don't want to cause another diplomatic incident!" Archer insisted.

            "But-but _pleasure slave_?!" Trip repeated, aghast. "And then she got called off and I couldn't say anything to her!"

            "Trip, normally I'm all for honest cultural exchange," Archer tried to explain, "but in this case—who cares? I mean, we're leaving tomorrow. I'm not really too worried that one small group of people believe _one_ human keeps a pleasure slave." He paused. "You _did_ emphasize that this wasn't typical human behavior, didn't you?"

            "Well, yeah, of course," Trip replied defensively. "But he's _not_ a pleasure slave! I mean, geez, that's just _sick_ , Jon! He's like a little kid or something."

            "Trip, I believe you," Jon assured him. "I just don't think it's such a big deal that there's been a misunderstanding about it."

            Trip snapped his fingers. "That's it."

            "What's it?" Archer asked dubiously.

            "It's a misunderstanding!" Trip repeated cheerfully. "I'll just explain that to Enera. Translator problem or something."

            "I'm sure Hoshi will appreciate that," Archer remarked dryly. But Trip was already running off.

 

            Late that night. "Honest, Aikolo, I was _really_ just trying to _talk_ to Enera—"

            "And what, may I ask, was so important that you must talk to my _wife_ in our _bedchamber_ in the night?" their host asked frostily, crossing his arms over his rather broad, muscular chest.

            "Well, um, you see, we had this conversation about pleasure slaves earlier today, and—" Aikolo raised an eyebrow in a very human gesture of displeased disbelief. Trip swallowed hard and glanced around at the guards looming over him from either side. "It was really all just a misunderstanding," he tried in a small voice.

            "Trip, Aikolo, what's going on here?"

            If Trip expected his Captain to be his savior, he was sadly mistaken. "Captain! I was just trying to—"

            "Aikolo, I must apologize for my crewmember's behavior," Archer interrupted, turning to their host. "If you'll release him into my security officer's custody"—he nodded towards Marcus, who was staring down one of the guards—"I'll make sure he's properly supervised for the rest of the visit. Perhaps we could discuss it?" Aikolo gave a stiff nod and indicated that Archer might enter his chamber. Before he crossed the threshold, Archer gave Trip a dark glare and signaled Marcus, who clasped Trip's upper arm like he was hauling a prisoner off to the Brig.

            "Hey, uh, not so tight, okay?" Trip complained once they were a few meters down the hall. "I mean, don't bury yourself in the part." Marcus gave him a sideways glance. "This _is_ just a part, isn't it? I mean, you're not _really_ gonna—"

            They stopped at the doorway to Trip's bedroom, where Marcus pulled an old-fashioned metal key from his pocket. "The household steward gave me this," he explained sternly. "I'm under orders to lock you in your room for the rest of the night."

            Trip chuckled a little. "That's funny, you're—" He saw Marcus's expression and stopped laughing. "You're not _serious_ , are you?"

            "I have my orders. Commander." He jerked his head towards the door. "Are you going to go quietly?" Trip hesitated. Marcus's eyes narrowed menacingly. Trip went quietly.

 

            The next afternoon. "Gee, Enera, I'm just real sorry about that whole thing last night," Trip apologized earnestly. "That was just a big misunderstanding."

            His hostess laughed a little, gently. "Oh, don't worry about it," she assured him pleasantly. "Your captain has explained everything."

            "Uh, he has?" Trip repeated uncertainly.

            Enera patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Oh yes. I just hope you've enjoyed your _big adventure_ with us," she added with a smile. "I'm sure you'll have lots of stories to tell Mala when you get back home, won't you?" Her voice seemed to have a bit of a higher pitch to it, like she was speaking to a pet.

            "Uh, yeah," Trip agreed.

 

            That evening. Trip had been quiet for a good part of the shuttlepod ride, but Archer knew it couldn't last forever. "Captain, I just gotta ask," he finally said, startling Hoshi and Marcus from their naps.

            "What's that, Trip?" Archer swiveled his seat to face the other man.

            "It's just—earlier today, everyone was _real_ nice to me," Trip noted with suspicion. "I mean, _real_ nice. Totally different from the way they were behaving earlier."

            "They weren't nice earlier?" Hoshi asked sleepily.

            "No, I mean—" Trip struggled to explain. "I mean, it was like they were—humoring me or something today. Like they all had some kind of inside joke I was missing." He looked at Marcus, who shrugged, not having noticed anything himself.

            Archer gave Trip a stern look. "You should be glad they _were_ being nice to you, Commander, after that little stunt last night," he chided his officer.

            Trip at least had the grace to look slightly ashamed. "Yeah, I guess that was a little foolish of me."

            "You think?" Archer shot back. "Trying to get into the hostess's _bedroom_? I mean, come on, you saw how they reacted to two unmarried people just sleeping in the same bed. Obviously there's a lot of rules in this area."

            "Yeah, I know, I know," Trip sighed. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

            "Trip, you have to learn to think these things through more," Archer told him with a touch of temper. "I mean, Aikolo was all for having you pilloried in the manor square."

            "That doesn't sound pleasant," Trip replied, not exactly sure what it meant.

            "That's where they lock your head and hands in this framework in public," explained Marcus, the expert on all things punishment related, "and people can come by and spit on you and throw rotten fruit at you and things like that." He sounded slightly disappointed that he didn't get to witness the penalty in action.

            "D—n," Trip breathed.

            "D—n is right," Archer agreed shortly, spinning back around in his chair. "Just try to remember that next time you get a good idea involving someone's bedroom, alright?"

            "Aye, sir." There was a pause. "So what exactly did you say to him, to get him to change his mind?" Was it Trip's imagination, or did Archer's posture stiffen up a little? "Sir?"

            "It's not important," the Captain tried to brush off, not turning back around. "Just—diplomatic vagaries."

            "Sir?" Trip probed, becoming extremely suspicious now. Hoshi and Marcus looked interested as well.

            Archer finally wheeled back around. "Look, I was just trying to save you from public humiliation, alright? Considering that we were about to leave anyway and we were probably never going to see these people again..."

            "What did you tell them?" Trip demanded.

            To his credit Archer refused to look embarrassed. "I told them the first reasonable thing that came to mind," he replied, hedging just a tiny bit. "I said..."

            "Yes?" Trip pressed.

            "I said that _Mal_ was actually your keeper, and that this was your first trip away without him," Archer finished.

            Trip's jaw dropped. "You _what_?!"

            "It made perfect sense to them!" Archer insisted. "I mean, they don't know how humans develop, I just said that you looked like an adult and you were very talented in engineering—"

            " _Very talented?!_ " Trip gasped out. "I'm your g-----n Chief Engineer!"

            "—but you were barely above an adolescent emotionally, which explained your behavioral abnormalities—"

            "Abnormalities?!"

            Archer gave him a hard look. "I'll have you know, they had _no trouble_ believing it. Enera actually said she finally understood why you kept talking about Mal all the time, if he was basically your nanny."

            Trip's mouth gaped but before he could reply—or rather, repeat Archer's last word in an ever more outraged tone—Marcus started snickering in the corner. Trip whipped his seat around to glare at him. "Oh, Trip's had his first _big boy_ adventure," the security officer snorted gleefully.

            "Shut up!" was the clever comeback Trip came up with.

            "Boys, no fighting," Hoshi said sternly, "or you'll both have a time-out."

            "I just hope we make it back to _Enterprise_ before bedtime," Archer added cheerfully, turning his back on his glowering Chief Engineer. "I know how cranky Trip gets when he doesn't get enough sleep."

           

            Mal was the first person through the doors to the Launch Bay once the green pressurization light came on. He pounced on Trip before the engineer could even leave the shuttlepod; the pair avoided tumbling to the deck plating only because Mal himself caught them. "Oh, Trip! You're back! I missed you _so_ much!" Archer would be lucky to get half as warm a greeting from Porthos, especially if he wasn't carrying cheddar.

            "Really? I hardly thought of you at all," Trip tried to tell him. Mal ignored the false statement completely.

            "I'm just glad Trip has someone to look after him again," Marcus noted intriguingly, just before he breezed out of the pod. Trip glared after him, but the damage had already been done.

            "What does that mean?" Mal prodded suspiciously. "Did you get into trouble on that planet? I _thought_ you had a couple times. I knew I should have gone with you. I could have kept you out of trouble. And kept you clean as well," he added critically, looking Trip over. "Didn't they have laundry facilities at this place?"

            "You wanna help?" Trip said to him with irritation. "Carry my stuff."

            "Oh, alright," Mal agreed easily, hefting the two bags. "The people on that planet weren't _mean_ to you, were they? I told Commander T'Pol I thought they were being _mean_ to you, but she wouldn't listen to me."

            "No, they were fine," Trip decided as they crossed the Launch Bay. "Um, I'll tell you about it later."

            "Captain, Commander," T'Pol greeted at the door to the hallway. "I trust your visit was satisfactory?" Trip immediately shot Archer a look.

            "Mission accomplished," the Captain assured T'Pol. "Very interesting people. Very... understanding." Trip rolled his eyes and T'Pol glanced between the two of them, an eyebrow starting to rise.

            Trip could see her forming a question and decided to change the subject. "So, Mal," he asked quickly, as they headed down the hall, "did T'Pol take good care of you?"

            He didn't expect the answer to be quite so vociferous, or indiscreet. "No!" Mal said immediately, and Trip could swear T'Pol glared at him. "It was horrible! She wouldn't let me sleep even on the _floor_ of her quarters, she didn't hug or pet me _at all_ , and—she didn't feed me enough!"

            Trip turned to T'Pol with a reproving expression. "T'Pol! You didn't _feed_ him?" He expected Mal was exaggerating a bit again.

            "He consumed an adequate number of calories for his metabolic rate, according to Dr. Phlox," the Vulcan countered icily.

            "I'm _starving_!" Mal complained, though he was carrying Trip's bags easily enough for someone on the verge of malnutrition. "I feel like I've been scooped out. I'm sure I've lost five kilos in the last three days. Maybe ten. Maybe fifteen."

            "You are—overstating the case. To an extreme degree," T'Pol retorted.

            "It's okay, T'Pol," Trip told her, chuckling a little. "I don't think he's _ever_ not hungry. Thanks for lookin' after him for me, I'm sure it wasn't the easiest job."

            "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Mal asked.

            "It was... fraught with new experiences," T'Pol admitted. She turned to Archer. "Captain, I've prepared a report about the events of the last three days, if you would care to review it."

            "Why not," Archer shrugged, nodding to the crewman carrying his bags to go on ahead. "See you tomorrow, Trip."

            "See ya, Captain." Trip and Mal continued down the hall towards their quarters. "Well, at least T'Pol didn't take away your binky, right?"

            Mal frowned at him. "My what?"

            Now it was Trip's turn to frown. "That sweatshirt thing—"

            "Oh, that old ratty, smelly thing?" Mal asked with distaste. "I recycled it _ages_ ago. It was quite disgusting."

            Trip actually stopped walking to turn and stare at him. "But you loved that! You wouldn't hardly go to sleep without it!"

            Mal gave him a put-upon look. "Trip, that was when I was _much_ younger."

            "It was last month!" the engineer shot back, still incredulous. Mal's look seemed to say, _Yes. Your point?_ "Well, I guess they just grow up on ya," Trip finally muttered, resuming his journey.

            "T'Pol _did_ tell me a bedtime story the other night, though, which was quite nice of her," Mal revealed.

            Trip raised both eyebrows at that news. "Really?"

            "Yes, it was an ancient Vulcan fable," Mal explained, "called 'The Loud, Disobedient Boy and the Carnivorous Sehlat.' Bit violent for my taste." Trip covered his smirk with his hand. "But did you know," Mal continued excitedly, "that 'Mal' is also an ancient Vulcan name? Odd, isn't it?"

            "Yes, very," Trip agreed dryly.


End file.
